“I shouldn't be anywhere else.”
“I don't deserve this,” she went on.
“Stop it.”
“No. I hurt him so badly. I couldn't even picture it. I had no idea. It was so bad. I don't deserve anything good,” she kept going.
“Stop,” Tal's voice was loud, and the hand on her back stilled. “Yeah, it was awful. Yeah, it hurts like hell. Yeah, you did a shitty thing – we did a shitty thing. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve happiness. You're not Hitler, you didn't kill people.”
“Just someone's soul,” she whispered. Tal sat up next to her.
“He'll survive,” he stressed.
“I'm not so sure. You didn't see his face. You didn't hear what he said. God, it was so awful. I feel so awful, being here with you. How can I be with you now? Where is he now? Where did he go? Why do I get to be here, wrapped in someone's arms?” Mischa sniffled.
“He's at a hotel on the other side of town, he's flying home tomorrow,” Tal answered. She turned to him, shocked.
“How do you know that!?” she exclaimed. He smiled sadly and brushed hair away from her face.
“Man of many talents, remember?”
Fuck you, mystery man.
“I just can't believe how bad it went. I never imagined, in a million years, that it would happen the way it did,” she sighed, pressing her face into her hands.
“I'm sure it's not as bad as you -, what the fuck is this!?”
Tal's voice was sharp as he grabbed her arm and pulled it towards him. He examined her skin closely, his glare wandering over the little bruise marks. He let her go and shifted around her, looking at her other arm. She looked as well, and sure enough, there were identical marks on her other bicep.
“I'm fine,” she assured him, trying to push his hand away.
“Like hell you are! That mother fucker put his hands on you!?” Tal shouted. She shook her head.
“No, it wasn't like that, really. He didn't hit me, he wasn't trying to hurt me,” she said quickly.
“Well, he's fucking dead. What happened,” Tal insisted, moving around some more till he was sitting in front of her.
“Tal, it's not a big -,”
“What. Happened.”
Mischa sighed.
“We went to the beach. He kissed me, I stopped him, he asked what was wrong, and I just said that … that we were unfixable. That it needed to end,” she started.
“That doesn't get you bruises. What else.”
“He didn't listen, I kept talking, he started to freak out when I said I wanted it to be over, he tried kissing me again, and I … I kinda … I wigged out, I shouted at him to stop. And it was like he knew. He just knew. He asked if I had cheated on him, and I … I said yes,” she stammered through the story.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. He came back here, and I followed, and when I got here, he was throwing all my stuff off the balcony.”
“You just let him!?”
“What was I supposed to do, Tal!?” she snapped. “'Hey, fucker, I know I just pissed all over your heart and ripped our eight year relationship to shreds, but can you put my Victoria's Secret underwear down?'. Yeah, no, I don't think so. He could've taken a shit in my luggage, and I would've let him.”
Tal actually started laughing, which made her laugh a little, too. But it felt good. And feeling good was bad, and then the guilt was back. Suffocating her.
“What else,” Tal kept his voice gentle. She took a deep breath.
“I told him that we needed to talk, and he calmed down. Said he understood, said we could work it out, he would forgive me, we'd go to therapy, blah blah blah. I kept telling him we couldn't work it out, and that's when he figured out that it wasn't just me having sex with someone else,” her voice became smaller and smaller.
“He figured out it was an affair,” Tal finished for her. She nodded, wiping at her nose.
“Yeah. Yeah, he did.”
“How did it end? How did you wind up in the shower?”
Misch took a deep breath.
“He, ah ... he was upset, at what I said, at what he'd figured out. He was yelling at me and, I don't know, trying to shake some sense into me. I think that's how I got the bruises. Then he kept pushing me against the wall, and he was calling me names,” Mischa started crying again. “He just kept pushing me, then he yanked my rings off. Took them and walked out of here.”
Tal stared at her for a second, then got off the bed. She watched as he pulled his shirt off the back of a chair – he must have taken it off while she'd been sleeping. He slipped it on and began buttoning it up as he walked across the suite.
“What're you doing!?” she demanded, sliding to the end of the bed.
“I'm gonna go kill him,” Tal said simply, stepping into his shoes.
Misch was out of the bed and managed to get in front of him before he could reach the door.
“Stop it!” she yelled, pushing him away. “Stop. He was angry, and he did some fucked up things, but so did I. He hurt my skin. I hurt his heart.”
“I don't give a fuck. That doesn't give him the right to touch you like that,” Tal was almost growling.
“It's my body, and I say it does,” she snapped back. He suddenly leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Baby, I hate to tell you this, but it's not just your body anymore. It's belonged to me ever since that first night,” he informed her.
“Tal,” Mischa took a deep breath. “He was upset. I've known Mike a long time, and I have never seen him like that, ever. Please.”
Before Tal could argue, the sound of Misch's phone chirping interrupted them. They stared at each other for a long moment, then she went back to the bedroom. Her cell was plugged in on the night stand, and she leaned over it.
“Is it him?” Tal asked, walking up behind her. She groaned and shook her head.
“No. My mother.”
Worse. I think I'd rather be reliving my morning, than talking to my mom.
“Do you want me to wait out in the living room?” he offered. She grabbed his arm.
“God, no. Hold my hand. Just … keep quiet,” she instructed, then she picked up the phone. She pushed the answer button, but wasn't even given a chance to say a greeting.
“What in the hell have you done, young lady!?” her mother was screeching. Misch moved to sit in the middle of the bed.
“Did he call you?” she asked. Tal crawled across the mattress and stretched out behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“No! Belinda called me! The woman was hysterical! She thinks her son is going to kill himself!”
That's a bit much.
“Mom, don't say that.”
“Are you saying he wasn't upset!?”
“Oh, he was upset.”
“As any husband would be! Cheated on him! How could you do that!? How could you do that!? I thought we raised you better than that!” her mother's voice was reaching epic levels.
“You did, Mom. I don't know … I just … wasn't happy,” Misch's voice fell into a whisper.
“Well, then you work it out! You get help! You talk to people! You don't go to another country and act like a common prostitute!”
“Mother!”
“I'm sorry, but that's what you acted like! I am so disappointed in you, Mischa!”
“I'm disappointed in me, too. I feel awful.”
“As you should!”
“I know.”
“Disgusting. I never thought I could be disgusted by my own daughter.”
“I know. I am, too.”
It just went on from there. Her mother didn't ask to hear her side, didn't question what had happened between her and Mike, or what was happening between her and Tal, or rather the “filthy homewrecker”, as he was dubbed by Mrs. Duggard. By the time her mom hung up on her, Misch felt numb, just nodding and agreeing with everything.
“That sounded rough,” Tal said, rubbing his hand across her thigh.
&n
bsp; “You have no idea. Have you ever been cursed at in Mandarin? Sucks,” she grumbled. She had just sat the phone down when it rang again.
“You don't have to answer it,” he pointed out. She shook her head.
“No. I deserve this. I should just get it out of the way,” she replied.
“It's not like lashings, Misch. Give yourself a break.”
“I don't deserve one.”
The name Lacey was scrolling across the screen, and when Mischa said hello, she was hopeful that it would go a little better than her mom's call.
“Is it true!? Tell me it's not true,” her friend was actually crying.
God, did Mike do a conference call!?
“Yeah, yeah it's true, Lace,” Misch's voice was stuck somewhere deep in her throat, and it came out thick and watery.
“Why? Why would you do that to him? What did he ever do to you?” Lacey sobbed.
“Nothing. He didn't do anything. I'm just … a bad person, Lace, who made some bad mistakes,” Misch offered. Tal's hand gripped her thigh.
“We are not a mistake,” he whispered. “You're not a bad person.”
No, you're right. I'm the worst person.
“Mistake!? You cheated on your husband! With some … stranger! Ew! You always said you hated cheaters!” Lacey reminded her.
“I know. I know what I said. Things happen, things change. I never knew I could feel this way, and I couldn't tell you how I was feeling cause I hated myself, and god, Lacey, I'm just so sorry,” Mischa sniffled, wiping at tears again. There was a long pause, and then her friend sighed.
“Bob doesn't want me seeing you anymore,” Lacey's voice was almost a whisper.
“Well, how do you feel?” Misch demanded, a little shocked.
“He's my husband, Misch. I'm not like you, I can't just do whatever I want,” Lacey replied.
Ouch.
“He can't tell you who you can and can't be friends with, Lacey. If you don't want to be my friend because of what I did, then fine, that's your choice. But don't do it just cause your husband hates me,” Misch snapped. There was an even longer pause.
“Was it worth it?” Lacey really was whispering that time. Misch glanced at Tal.
“I don't know. It's pretty awful right now. Way worse than I thought it would be, and I had already guessed it would be hell,” she started, staring straight into his eyes. “But I think … I think maybe yeah, it was.”
“God, you should've talked to me, Mischa. I could've helped you end things with him. I could've helped. You're my best friend. Why couldn't you talk to me?” Lacey was crying again.
“I don't know. I hated me. I didn't want you to hate me, too,” Misch tried to explain. There was some noise, then a man's voice was talking in the background.
“I have to go,” Lacey's voice was cold.
“Can I call you later? Like on your lunch break?” Misch asked, and she could hear the desperation in her own voice.
“No. No, I just can't be your best friend right now. Not after what you did. I'm sorry, Misch. I really am.”
Then the line was dead.
Mischa dropped the phone and put her head in her hands. The cell started ringing again, and another friend's name scrolled across the screen. It went to voicemail. Then a text came. Then another. More. Tons. All the same.
“Is it true!? How could you!? What happened!?”
“What do you want me to do? How can I help?” Tal asked.
Misch's first thought was “I want you to not be the kind of guy who sleeps with married women”, but then an even heavier wave of guilt crashed over her.
He's the only good part of what's happening, and that's your first thought. You're such a bitch.
“I don't know. I don't know what to do,” she whispered.
“The plan. Remember the plan.”
Break up with Mike. Finish her job. Be with Tal.
“I just feel so bad. I honestly thought it wouldn't feel this bad. I'd already done the deed, how can I feel worse?” she asked.
“Out of sight, out of mind. Mike wasn't part of the equation, till you had to talk to him,” Tal answered.
“God. I have to call him, I have to make sure he's okay,” she wiped at her face and reached for her phone.
“Don't.”
“Tal, I have to. Even if he hates me right now, I still care about him. What's the name of his hotel?” she asked.
“I won't tell you.”
She glared at him.
“You can either tell me, or I will go out and visit every single fucking hotel till I find him.”
He gave her the number and she quickly dialed it, asked for Mike's room. There were a couple rings before anyone picked up.
“Hello.” His voice was low and gravelly, not normal for him.
“Please don't hang up,” she rushed out. There was a heavy silence, and his anger was palpable through the phone.
“Why shouldn't I!? I don't owe you anything,” he snarled.
“I know. I just had to make sure you were okay,” she told him.
“No, I'm not okay! My wife is cheating on me! Nothing will ever be okay again!” he snapped.
“Mike, please. Please. I want to talk with you. Can I come see you?” she pleaded. Tal began violently shaking his head no at the same time Mike responded.
“No. I don't want to see you.”
“Please, Mikey. Sleep on it, and I'll call you in the morning. Please?”
“I'm leaving in the morning. You better find a new place to live before you come home.”
Then he hung up on her.
That's something no one ever tells you when you cheat on your husband and end your marriage – no one will say goodbye anymore.
“I told you not to,” Tal pointed out.
“Shut up. Just shut up!” she snapped.
“Want me to order dinner?” he offered.
“No. I never want to eat again.”
“Stop it.”
“I'm just gonna sleep. Maybe when I wake up, things won't be so bad, and none of this will have happened,” she took deep breaths, clawing her fingers through her hair.
“Stop. It's done, it's over with. Things are going to be shit for a while, but you're here. With me. We have each other,” he reminded her.
“I'm the one going through shit! You're the one who gets a free fuck out of all this!” she yelled at him.
“Hey. You wanna take your anger out on me? Fine. If that's what it takes, fine. Yell at me, call me names, blame it on me. I can do that for you. I can take that for you,” he said simply.
I don't deserve him.
Mischa suddenly leaned into him, pressing her face against his chest. He was surprised for a moment, then his arms went around her, holding her tightly. The guilt was still there, still clawing at her heart, eating her soul. But maybe, just maybe, if he held her long enough, it would fade away.
She had to believe that, or she'd go insane.
*
It was around five in the morning Italian time when Misch's phone rang again, waking her up. She'd been getting calls all evening, but it was really late in Detroit's time zone. Who would be calling at that hour? She crawled out from under Tal's arm and glanced at the screen.
Dad-a-rino.
“Daddy?” she answered the phone in a hurry.
“Oh, sweetie pea, what have you gotten yourself into?”
At some point, I've got to stop crying, or I'll never be able to open my eyes again.
“I'm so sorry, Dad. Please say you don't hate me, please, please, please,” she cried. Behind her, Tal woke up with a start.
“What's wrong!? Are you okay!?” he asked, struggling with the covers. She waved him away.
“I could never hate you, baby, you're my sunshine. My reason for living. I knew something was up, I just couldn't place it. Now it makes sense. I gotta say, I don't approve of what you did,” her father started. “I wish you hadn't done it. But I understand, baby. I do understand.”
�
�I'm so sorry, Dad. I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted to disappoint you,” she sobbed, crying so hard it was difficult to talk.
“Well, that's impossible in life, dear. I've disappointed everyone I know at some point. Hell, I even disappointed you a time or two – remember when I forgot you at soccer practice, and you slept in the dugout on the little league field? I still haven't forgotten that.”
Misch laughed. She actually laughed, for what felt like the first time in forever.
“Oh wow, I had kinda forgotten,” she chuckled through her tears.
“See? And you still love me. It's not the end of the world. You're not a bad person, baby, you just made some really bad choices,” he informed her.
“I know, Dad. I know. I just … I felt trapped, and I did something stupid,” she replied, trying to catch her breath.
“That's hitting the nail on the head. Now, I didn't actually call to talk to you,” he said.
“Mike's not here.”
“I don't want to talk to him.”
“Then who …,” Misch's voice trailed off, and understanding dawned. She turned and stared at Tal.
“Yup. Put him on the phone,” her dad instructed her.
“Why would you think he's here?” Mischa tried.
“Because I know you, and I know you wouldn't just go off with some random guy. If you went this far, then you must think he's a good guy. And if he's a good guy, then he sure as shit better be taking care of my little girl when she's hurting – even if he's part of the problem. Now put him on the phone,” her dad demanded again.
“I can't do that, Dad. I can't. He -,”
Tal solved the problem by yanking the phone away from her.
“Mr. Duggard, sir,” he said in a serious voice.
Mischa tried to grab the phone away, but Tal got up and moved to stand at the foot of the bed. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest while her teeth worked overtime on her bottom lip.
“Yes, sir … yes, I was aware … no, not necessarily … I'm sorry, sir, but your daughter is a very attractive woman … no, that's not all, I also think she has an amazing spirit and mind … it was very hard, I knew it was gonna be bad. Knew it was gonna be worse than what she thought … I do, sir … Tal Canaan … the army … New York, then Israel … sometimes … oh, yeah … Mets!? Are you insane!? Yankees all the way! … no, no, no, we'll go to a game, and we'll see who's right … okay, that I can handle – as long as it's not the Pats … yes, sir … yes, I already do … you can trust -, well, I'll prove to you that you can trust me … one question – did he tell you that he grabbed her? Hard enough to leave bruises … yes, sir, I had the same thoughts, sir,” Tal's voice started getting hard. The conversation Mischa had been overhearing was surreal enough; she didn't want to listen to them bashing Mike, when he was the innocent party.
My Time in the Affair Page 17
